


You're My Medicine

by blueeyedmonster



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Fluff, Hallucinations, Medicine, Phone Calls, a lot of innuendos on this one, it doesn't specifically say romance but it's also not platonic so idc, music video, only a bit of it though, robbers, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueeyedmonster/pseuds/blueeyedmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He calls him on a saturday night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> This was spontaneous and came into my mind when I watched the Robbers video. lmao I hope it doesn't suck too bad :(  
> This is plain bromance so if you came here to see something else then I'm sorry but :(  
> Also it's unbeta'd so if anyone would like to volunteer to beta this I'd love you forever xxx

He calls him on a saturday night.

It‘s not like he‘s expected it, with a bottle of wine and his bare feet on the table, two features he‘d learned from him. The bar isn‘t exactly quiet either, filled with strangers and some of his childhood and family friends, everyone talking around. Time off, they call it. He‘s never really known what it was, after two years on the road straight. But he likes it, he figures.

He doesn‘t hear his phone at first, the soft synth strings playing in his pocket, they‘re too quiet for messing with the floating noises in the room. He doesn‘t even remember who set the ringtone, but he definitely knows it wasn‘t him.

He hears it when the e-guitar starts playing. Adam says it sounds like the sun rising in the morning, the feeling when you come home after a long night out and you step into the cold air.

It‘s quiet, he said, the place where you are, wherever you are. As long as you can see the sun rising, and you have to pull your jacket tighter even though the alcohol is keeping you warm because you‘re starting to sober. You‘re maybe on top of a freeway bridge, leaning against the cold metal. That‘s what it sounds like, he says, when the guitar in Medicine starts playing.

He hears exactly this, though at first it‘s just a faint sound in the background. He‘s not even sure if it‘s really there but he still lifts his head from his bottle and looks around, as if the music came from somewhere out the walls.

It‘s when he hears the familiar voice it finally clicks, that the song is actually his phone, and god, there‘s someone trying to call him for ages now.

He gets his phone out of his pocket when the chorus starts and he honestly doesn‘t know who would even hold on for so long, when his eyes fall on the display name and, oh.

He picks up in within a second, eyes fixed on the table.

„Hey?“ he asks, trying to sound stable over the loud background sounds. „How long have you been trying to call?“

He doesn‘t get a response. „Matty...?“ he tries again.

There‘s a loud shuffling noise from the other side and then he hears him say „Um. Uh, a minute maybe“. The voice sounds restricted, as though he is trying to hold breath inside.

„Matty, what‘s it?“ he says, taking a sip of his wine.

There‘s more shuffling noises before he finally speaks up. „Um, I, don‘t know where it comes from.“

He leans back slowly, tapping his fingers against the hard wood. „What, Matty? What‘s coming from where?“

„T-the blood“ comes almost instantly, and then there‘s a loud CLANK and a „Sorry oh god, I knocked over the bowl!“

„What the fuck.“ he answers, fingers stopping. „What are you talking about?“

There‘s whining and more noises and seriously, he gets a weird feeling in his stomach. „Matty!“ he says, more sternly.

„I told you I don‘t know, George! I-it‘s like, there‘s, it‘s just here and I can‘t wipe it off and it scares me, fuck, IT SCARES ME!“ he screams, and it‘s loud and George is too alarmed to stay here any longer, so he grabs his bottle and wallet and looks up at his friends who are eyeing him suspiciously.

„Matt, Matty, calm down! Where are you?“ he shoots a quick glare to the people around him and gets up, making his way through the people. The line goes silent for a few seconds, and he hears absolutely nothing, and that is so, so bad because he know‘s Matty isn‘t breathing. It‘s enough for him to start panicking.

„Talk to me, cat!“ he shouts into the phone, heading through the door of the bar as the cold air hits him. Just like the guitar. It should sound stupid, the nickname, but ever since that Spotlight Reward they just kinda stuck to it, or at least George did.

It did seem to bring him back a bit though, he can hear him take a deep breath and then make a small sound like a hurt kitten.

„Home! I‘m at home. On the floor. I just - fuck, wait-“ it sounds like he is getting up, then more shuffling noises. It takes too long.

„Matty for fucks sake, stay on the phone! Can you tell me where the blood is?“ He gets in his car now, phone between his head and shoulder, but he could really not care less.

„Uuuhm“ he says, like he was actually trying to look for it. God.

„It‘s uh, here, it‘s here. Found it, George.“ he sounds kind of proud with himself, being able to answer a question like that and all. It makes George want to cry.

„Where‘s the blood, Matty? I can‘t see it, remember?“ He‘s pulling into the road now, hitting the speed a little harder than he should.

„Sorry, sorry, yeah“ he says, breathing heavily. Then: „On my tummy. Also on the floor some. I think they got me, no, oh god“ He sounds seriously upset now, like a little kid has stolen his candy. George is close to freaking out.

„There‘s blood on your stomach?“ he asks, feeling his own blood running cold. „Matty, are you hurting there? Did you hurt yourself? Do you want me to call an ambulance?“ He‘s so, so scared and he can barely drive but he knows he has to, has to get home safe and most importantly as soon as possible.

„Nhh“ he says, George can hear running water in the background and the sound of glass against ceramic. „No, I don‘t know, but I can‘t wipe it off.“ George curses under his breath.

„Cat, turn the water off now and sit down, understand? I want you to sit down.“ The water stops and he hears a slump and then Matt says: „I look so cool, George.“

His blood freezes.

„...You what?“ he asks slowly, not sure about whether he got the context right or not.

„It‘s so cool“ he says, suddenly starting to laugh. It sounds terrifying. „I‘m scared, please babe, please.“

„Oh god“ George says, breaking about every speed limit until he hits home.

 

When he enters the flat, his fingers are shaking. He‘s close to a breakdown and as soon as he turns the key around he storms in, throwing the door to the bathroom open.

He finds Matty on the floor, knees bent and head resting on it. He is fidgeting with his hands and his breath is unsteady, eyes wide, pupils blown. He looks up.

„Matty, oh god!“ he says, dropping to the floor in front of him. He takes his hands in his own and looks him straight in the eyes. They‘re scared.

„George“ he breathes, tightening the grip on his fingers. „George.“

„Yeah, fuck, I‘m here, I‘m here, Matty, okay?“ It‘s all too much for him, his blood is pumping so fast that he‘s scared he might pass out.

He finally takes a second look at his best friend and he feels sick. His muscles are trembling and the skin looks pale, he‘s got dark eyebags and his hair is even more messed up than it usually already is. The worst though, are his eyes.

And his shirt, because, George notices, it‘s open. Like always.

And there‘s no blood. Nowhere.

And then he notices the empty box, and he turns to look at it closer, but he finds another one.

And another one.

„Matty..“ he breathes out, looking up, and it hits him so hard in this moment, that this is his best friend and he‘s scared and lost, and he thinks he‘s been shot like in the Robbers music video, thinks he looks cool, and he feels the tears running down his cheeks now from the stress and the relief to find him alive, to know that he‘s not been shot or lying on the bathroom floor.

This, though, it makes him cry.

Silently, he puts his hands under Matty‘s armpits and maneuvres them into a standing position. He carries him into the bedroom and flops him down on the bed, taking the ripped shirt off his body.

„Your skin is so hot“ he whispers, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Matty looks horrible. „How many did you take?“

His friend exhales shakily and takes one of George‘s hands, putting it down on his own forehead to cool it.

„Many. Can‘t remember. Couldn‘t sleep.“ he says, voice slurred. George shakes his head and presses his face into the one hand that he‘s holding.

„You‘re stupid, Matthew. You‘re so stupid. I‘m here. I‘m gonna wipe the blood away, okay? It‘s gonna go away.“ He knows it‘s a lie, but Matty is drugged and hallucinating and scared to death and he just, he has to keep him safe. „You‘re ok now. Try to close your eyes, yeah? Please. You‘re fever dreaming. Just trust me.“

It‘s fucked up and he‘s tired all of a sudden, tired of his best friend taking too much pills, tired of himself leaving him alone and just, tired.

But he‘s happy. It‘s okay, he keeps telling himself, he‘s fine. He‘ll wake up tomorrow and be fine.

 

Later that night, when Matty has fallen asleep, he calls the ambulance. He lets them check up on him and they say he should stop taking those pills. Matty wakes up and starts crying and shouts at the doctors to fuck off, so they do. George holds him close and lets him cry into his chest because he knows that he‘ll be fine.

He wants to tell him that he has to stop drugging, but he doesn‘t. Matty knows, and he tries, and that‘s more he could ever ask from him.

He also wants to tell him that he‘s stupid for scaring the shit out of him, but he knows that Matty is so much more scared right now that he is himself. „It‘s okay“, he says. „The blood is gone, cat, you‘re ok.“ And he seems okay.

„I want a cigarette please“ he rasps into his chest, and George knows that he should tell him no, you‘ll sleep now, but he doesn‘t. Because he knows that it‘s just how it goes, and he wouldn‘t want to change a single thing. Not now.

So he holds the cigarette while Matty sucks on it like he‘s starving, and he holds the second one too and even the third. It really is like in the Robbers video, he thinks. Matty got shot and he holds cigarettes to his mouth. Its ironic, but it‘s okay.

When Matty finally falls asleep again, it‘s against George‘s chest. He looks vulnerable like this, but it‘s beautiful. It‘s just what he is, all bare chest and curly hair, and so many flaws that he doesn‘t think he‘ll ever get over how pretty his friend actually is.

When he falls asleep himself, too, it‘s like Medicine all over again. It feels like on that freeway bridge Adam‘s talked about, and he can see the sun rising, and the guitar is playing softly and it‘s like getting born again. He sees Matty beside him, and Hann and Ross and John, and he hears Matty singing along quietly, duetting with the sunrise, and it‘s beautiful.

He sees him turn his head and smile and say „You‘re my medicine“, and he knows they‘re gonna be fine. Because that‘s what he is, and he‘d do that a hundred times over and over if it was what it‘s about. He‘ll be Matty‘s medicine for however long he needs him to be, because that‘s what they do, and it‘s okay.

It‘ll all be ok.

**Author's Note:**

> I always say that when the guitar starts playing in the Medicine intro it feels like the sunrise x  
> also I'm @tommorepublic on twitter :)


End file.
